banquet hall was revealed once again through acrid smoke. Everything was charred and ruined. Blackened flesh and melted steel dotted the room. The banquet table and chairs were withered, smoking blocks. Every painting and sculpture and ornament had been turned to charred and molten waste. No one was left standing in the room besides Samuel and the Count-only smouldering shafts of bone gave their fates away at all.
Rudderford surveyed the scene around him with astonishment. ‘Oh,
The entry doors hung open, broken on their hinges and Ash had surely fled.
‘Quickly!’ Samuel shouted, springing into action. ‘If your other men ever arrive, hurry them to Mr Cervantes’ camp.’
‘Yes, of course,’ stammered the cowering Rudderford, still looking at his ruined chamber with dismay.
Samuel ran across the hall, his boots hissing with each step upon the scalding floor. Outside, a distant horse-borne figure could be seen galloping away towards his campsite. The other horses still stood tied to the nearby watering trough and Samuel quickly untethered the nearest one. He leapt upon it, yelling and spurring the animal after Ash. It lurched forward with a snort and was quickly galloping across the frozen and sludgy grounds in pursuit. A light snow had begun sometime that morning and a thin, white sheet had formed all over the bare hills. The tiny specks of drifting ice disappeared on contact with Samuel’s flushed skin and he could already feel the cold working its way into his cheeks and knuckles as he rode. He was woefully underdressed for such weather, but was not prepared to turn around and go back to fetch a cloak, and neither was he willing to waste even a drop of power warming himself. Instead, he gritted his teeth and forged on determinedly.
Ash was already far ahead and his animal was proving much faster than Samuel’s, disappearing away between the hillsides.
Past the farms and fields Samuel flew. In the icy wind, he kicked his steed over and over until it frothed at the mouth. As the campsite rounded into view, Ash could be seen shouting and calling his men from their tents and breakfasts and a heavy wagon was quickly being harnessed. The great shape of the Argum Stone could be seen, roped flat upon it.
As Samuel neared, Ash’s men armed themselves with picks and shovels and came running towards him. They were clearly not trained soldiers and Samuel had no time to squander dealing with them. He sent a spell ahead of himself-a compression of air that hit the men with a
Ash was climbing upon the wagon while the last of his men finished hitching the horses. ‘Keep your distance!’ he roared as Samuel pulled his horse to a stop. ‘You’re proving to be a thorn in my side, Magician!’
‘You don’t know how much I’ve been looking forward to this,’ Samuel called back. He actually felt a smile on his face. ‘Say goodbye to whatever evil gods you worship.’
Ash drew a small vessel from inside his cloak. He held it up a moment, scrutinising it closely. A greenish liquid could be seen slopping around inside.
It was all the warning Samuel needed and he threw himself from his horse at the faintest gathering of a spell. A brilliant beam of light shot out from the vial as Samuel rolled to the ground. With a screaming shriek, the horse dropped beside him in two kicking halves. Its steaming innards spewed out from its severed body like enormous, lurching worms boiling from their nest and Ash laughed aloud at the sight.
Samuel had no time to ponder the strange spell. He regained his feet and sprang high, powering his leap with magic, kicking Ash in the teeth and landing atop the roped artefact. The tall magician recoiled, clutching his bloody mouth with a wolfish yelp. Samuel kicked him again and Ash toppled headfirst from the wagon onto the turned earth. The remaining men had now scattered from the wagon and were bolting up towards the roadway as fast as their legs would carry them.
‘You think you’re so great,’ Ash hissed from the ground, spitting blood and climbing back onto his feet, ‘but your pathetic Order of Magicians is nothing. I have the power of the Ancients in my grasp!
‘Nothing will stop me from killing you!’ Samuel said defiantly, standing and flicking flecks of ice from his garments. He settled his mind and began to gather energy as calmly as he could. He would be ready when Ash struck next. ‘You killed Leila and you killed my family! No matter how many strange spells you employ, your time in this world has come to an end.’
‘Very dramatic, young man, but I have no idea of what you are talking about and
Ash then called aloud another incomprehensible word and another beam struck out from his vial. This time, Samuel was ready. His magical shield flew into place to protect him from the spell, doubled and fortified as he had learned from Tabbet, but it was still not enough. The screeching beam began piercing his defence like a finger poking its way through sheets of wet paper. Samuel realised he only had moments before his spell was completely broken, so he concentrated all his remaining power into that tiny spot where the beam was focused. At the last moment, he thrust his shield aside with all his mind and might. His plan worked and Ash’s beam skipped off to his left and struck the ground with a great explosion, throwing up dirt for a hundred paces and creating a long, dark furrow amidst the pale snow.
‘Impressive,’ Ash noted. ‘Little wonder you managed to best Tabbet. I guess I should have let you be in your little village, but it’s too late for that now.’ The man opened his palm to reveal another small vial-this one seemed to contain a blackish fluid that clung stubbornly to the glass around it.
Samuel would not let the man have any more time to ready his strange magic and sent a half-dozen spells of burning energy screaming towards Ash, but it was already too late. Ash only had to whisper into his hand and an unholy wind sprang up. The distance between them was too great and Samuel’s spells slowed in their path, then stopped as the magical wind became a howling gale. They struggled vainly against the mad wind, until finally reversing their course and flying backwards, passing overhead and landing in the fields far behind him, exploded with dull booms in the roaring wind.
He desperately tried to think of some spell to negate the wind, but Ash’s magic was alien and would not be turned. Grit and ice bit into Samuel’s face, blinding him. He tried to cast a spell, but all he could see and hear and feel was the almighty wind, striking him and biting him on all sides. A sudden shape loomed before him through the swirling sand and Samuel had no time to act. He tried to escape aside, but the thing smashed into him, cracking bones and throwing him backwards. A great weight began piling up on top of him and squeezing the life out of him. Above it all-above his own cries and even above the thunderous noise of the wind-Ash’s laughter echoed on and on until there was nothing left but darkness and utter screaming silence.
Voices came distantly to Samuel. Cool air touched his skin and entered his desperate lungs and hands were pulling him from under the earth. He coughed up sand and dirt while hands lifted him and brushed away the soil from his face. His body felt pain with every movement and he felt as if his ribs were poking through his skin.
‘Samuel, my good friend,’ someone called. ‘Are you alive? Oh, this is terrible! What has Mr Cervantes done to you? Shall we go after him?’
‘No,’ Samuel wheezed. They would only be slaughtered. ‘I will kill him…myself,’ he managed before passing out with pain.
Samuel had long and uncomfortable dreams. He dreamed of Ash leering over him and Leila. Ash kept trying to pull her away, but he held onto her with all his might. Then Leila and Ash were gone. Dark shadows awaited at the corners of his sight and always he was being pulled downward through the earth, being sucked under where nightmarish creatures waited. Howls of laughter echoed all around as he desperately clawed at the earth that worked to swallow him. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of something huge shambling towards him. It was a terrible and evil thing, immensely powerful and full of hate. It was coming-day by day it drew nearer-and it would eat the world.
